


The Drama we call life

by Waldmaedchen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Desperation, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Malfoy Manor, Older Man/Younger Woman, One Shot, Sexual Content, pureblood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 08:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldmaedchen/pseuds/Waldmaedchen
Summary: In a world where everything is predetermined, there is no room for emotion and personal development. One is condemned to live the life one does not want to live at all.





	The Drama we call life

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! 
> 
> I wrote this fanfiction about three years ago in my native language. It's one of my favourites so I tried my best to translate it into English to publish it here. To be honest - I'm positive that there will be some mistakes, I'm sorry! I wouldn't mind if you point them out to me (so I can correct them) or volunteer as a beta-reader. 
> 
> Nothing more left to say - enojoy!

In the foyer of Malfoy Manor there was a brisk hustle and bustle. Everyone of distinction in the world of wizards and witches had appeared today. The master of the house, Lucius, and his wife, invited to a great feast on the occasion of the birth of their first grandson, Scorpius. The gentlemen wore their finest tuxedos, while the ladies wrapped themselves in the noblest fabrics that flattered their figures, emphasizing them or drawing them to attention in a unflattering way. The mood was exuberant, the cheerful chatter and mirthful laughter echoed through the old walls and breathed life into the otherwise rather abandoned-looking building.

It was naive to think that the cause of their happiness was the new member of the magical society. Not the reason, but the solemnity itself was what made the hearts of the magical upper class beat faster. The jewels, diamonds, and other thick clunkers that the ladies with the held up high noses, had wrapped around their necks, sparkled with the light of the mansion's heavy chandeliers. Some gentlemen crept lsmooth like a panther over the freshly polished parquet, while others prowled around like a peacock.

For festivities like these, it was about being seen, presenting oneself. Those who could not be impressed by ones considerable family history so far would certainly be attracted by the exquisite fabrics from the Orient, the swanky tailor-made suit and the top-class jewelery on evenings such as this one. However, one was also aware in Britain's magical in-crowd that outward appearances alone were not enough. And so one talked excessive about his last charity event, the shares that one had sold thanks to ones good sense shortly before a crash at horrendous prices or the million dollar worthy business concept that lay in a drawer in ones desk waiting to put in action with the help of a worthy business partner.

Lucius, who in addition to his wife Narcissa, had taken his posture on the large, double-winged front door, decorated with dark wood and ornate carvings, to personally greet every single guest - the ladies with a hand kiss, the gentlemen with a handshake - broke away after the last guest had arrived, from his stoic attitude. He resisted the absurd urge to shake out his left arm, which he had so elegantly crossed behind his back all the time, to free it from his rigidity. Instead, he strode briskly, yet lithe, toward one of the butlers who held a silver platter in his gloved hand.House elves would never be found at a reception like this. These lower creatures aroused disgust among the distinguished society and one or the other, with a little more empathy, perhaps a guilty conscience or even pity.

The blond aristocrat grabbed one of the crystal glasses filled with the finest champagne one could buy in the UK and stepped aside. He stood with his back to the wall he had recently paneled with dark marble from Italy, always anxious to keep the necessary distance so as not to risk any wrinkles in the jacket of his tuxedo. As he continued to take small sips of the fine-sparkling beverage, he let his eyes glide sluggishly through the spacious entrance hall. His ice-gray eyes fixed here and there on one or another guest. First, a middle-aged woman who let out a shrill laugh drew his attention. Bethy, the new woman on the side of Tom Moore, owner of several world-class restaurants. Lucius gave a scornful snort. Only Merlin knew what Tom found in this terribly shrill female.

With a little more pleasure Lucius looked at the small older man, who looked somewhat lost at the foot of the imposing, stone staircase.  
Jacob Davies, who served as chief judge during the prime of his life. Not only was he known for his now gray-haired walrus moustache, whom he always skilfully twirled upwards; he gained dubious fame, above all through his corrupt nature. But his greed became his fate in old age. The gout was plaguing his sluggish limbs, and his paunch, which could be seen growing every hour, was only kept in check by the expensive clothing with great difficulty. Despite everything, he never lost one, his loose mouth. And Lucius was amused, now and then, indeed, about this - of course only in silence. 

Not far from Mr. Davies was his exact opposite, Mr. George Reynolds. The discoverer of one of the most precious gems and highly respected alchemist, earned much admiration by his frugal, industrious character. Despite his advanced age, the tall, wiry man had a sharp mind. The receding hairlines that graced his hair and the deep furrows around his mouth gave him a deceptive rigor that did not seem to fit the good-natured sparkle in his crystal-blue eyes. His wife was unfortunately prevented today. It has been rumored for a long time that menopause would hurt her badly.

That's why his daughter, Grace, was at his side. The young woman, whose hair was reminiscent of a harsh red wine, was, as so many women in these circles, called a bittersweet disappointment. After decades spent in vain by the Reynolds couple to conceive a child, the joy was great as the long-awaited offspring announced themselves. But instead of a son and heir, the two held a little girl in their hands - a circumstance that always caused displeasure in high society. However, Mr. Reynolds always knew how to stage the perfect game with the cards given to him. And so Grace Reynolds became one of the most sought after bachelors in magical Britain. 

The news that the all too small, broad hipped woman had become engaged to the stockbroker, Ben Johnson, was not unexpected for Lucius. The young man, who always wore too much pomade in his dark hair and had a slimy grin plastered on his face, belonged to one of the five wealthiest families in the wizarding world besides the Reynolds and the Malfoys. It was a tactically clever move to engage with the unscrupulous, arrogant and calculating creep. Thus, Grace took her parents' unspoken fear of marrying far below her class and Johnson could satisfy his greed.

Malfoy Senior took the last sip of his champagne as he grimaced in disgust. Lady Winter, wrapped in a candy-colored dress that was probably her own creation, shared tongue kisses with her chihuahua after consuming a caviar-topped snack.  
This woman, with the intelligence of a gnome, was always striving for higher goals, so the success of her man, who designed jerseys for all Quidditch teams, was not enough for her. And so Roselynd started designing clothes for the modern, well-heeled witch. But only with little success - she herself was her best customer.

*°*°*°*°*°*°

The tall, blond wizard put the last bite of his dessert, which he had spiked with a small golden fork, into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste of this delicity on last time. His house elves had decided to incorporate lavender into the dough, giving the dessert a particularly excellent taste. Some pride swells in his chest as he thinks of the sophistication of his house-elves. Judging from the blissful faces of his guests, they too seemed to be enthusiastic about the cooking skills of his serfs. Lucius' right corner of his mouth jerked up briefly before he dropped the fork on the plate, which was made of the finest porcelain. 

His ice-gray eyes wandered through the large ballroom of the Manor, where a multitude of round tables were set up. Each of them was set with a bright white tablecloth, fresh white roses, golden candlesticks and small gems. The cutlery, the plates and the wine glasses were already gone, because the banquet was already over. Now the fine guests sat toghether gossiping, hoping to be able to kill the long minutes until the time when it was appropriate to leave.

A bright clink drew Malfoy's attention to Bob Miller. He had risen from his place and brought attention to himself with a knife, which he knocked against one of the glasses. Lucius took a deep breath and had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Bob was a master of words and found the right sentences for every occasion. Once the young man had begun to speak, it was difficult for him to stop again.

The other members of the upper class was aware of why some already restlessly slipped on their place back and forth. "Dear Draco, dear Astoria. It is my pleasure to celebrate with you the arrival of your Firstborn today, "said Mr. Miller in a loud voice that occupied the entire hall. He philosophized profusely about the delight of holding a little wizard in his arms, explained vaguely what duties were now on the new parents and lost himself in anecdotes from the time when his children were still small.

In situations like these, the wheat separated the chaff. Only a few, well-bred members of the magical upper class managed to maintain their composure even in long moments of the trite, idle chatter. They sat with straight backs to Bob and mimed the interested listeners, nodding in agreement here and there, smiling from time to time or, if necessary, making noises of astonishment. All the others fidgeted nervously with their clothes, looked at the table decorations, or found the wooden paneling of the banqueting hall as very interesting.

Lucius was one of those wizards with tremendous self-control and notable acting skills. He made one of his empty, but loud, and matching laughs when Bob allowed himself a joke about the plush dragon's dangers as his hackles raise. He could feel the piercing gaze like a burn on his cheek. He turned his eyes away from the speaker as inconspicuous as possible and went in search of his watcher.

It was only a brief moment that vanished in no time as he looked in dark green eyes. Only seconds later, Malfoy wondered if his perception had deceived him. Bob enjoyed Grace's undivided attention and nothing about the young woman indicated that her eyes landed on Lucius outrageously long after a long time of wandering.

With raging applause, the end of Bob Miller's speech was greeted. It was less the praise for his chosen words than the joy that his verbiage was finally over. The people turned back to their neighbors and concentrated on their phrases with which they enveloped their counterpart. Lucius nodded with interest as he listened with one ear to Narcissa's tales as he tried to catch with the other ear bits of words from other conversations. A bright, melodic laugh drew his attention once more to the only red-haired woman present. "Oh, my love. Your humor is delicious, "Grace whispered as she gazed dreamy at her fiancé and patted his big hands, which he had folded in front of him.

This man looked puzzled, almost ashamed. Lucius guessed that his beloved woman, at a most inopportune time, laughed and thought she recognized a joke where no one was. He knew this phenomenon from his wife. The women of fine society were trained to revere to her husband. It was not uncommon for females to use their acting talent at the wrong moment, causing embarrassment. His silent sympathy was for the slimy, dark-haired man, who was now trying to distract from the faux-pas of his fiancée with trivial tales.

Lucius sipped his whiskey while leaning back in his chair. Lance Willis, who had taken a seat to his right, turned out, as so often, as an interesting conversationalist. Even if the chubby man liked to exaggerate and cook up a few details here and there, Malfoy felt well entertained by him. Willis was not without reason one of the most successful authors of adventure stories. Even if Lucius had never read one of his books, he succeeded in making the naive scribe believe that he was in possession of all his works.

*°*°*°*°*°*°

Lucius' long blond hair blew in the mild breeze of the summer night as he ran down the sandy path that led down to the boathouse that stood by the lake of his estate. His ears were still ringing from the too loud background noise in the ballroom. He felt burned out, thanks to all the meaningless, mindless conversations. He longed for silence, so he decided to leave the company and seek rest in the stillness of the night.

He was early aware that he would never find what he longed for in the magical Britain's upper class. All those people who were now showing off their possessions in their homes were falsly taken all the credit for. They owned their wealth exclusively to their intelligent, ambitious and hard-working ancestors. Over time, the proud families blessed with talent and skill became a bunch of lazy, stupid charlatans. A result of steady prosperity, he supposed.

Profound conversations that made you think and broaden your horizons could not be shared with these simple-minded people. It was never about getting to know each other or getting close. All that mattered was to create a picture that would make you look good. Intelligence and diligence were no longer necessary, for the millions of Galleons were already in the numerous lockers of Gringotts and multiplied, thanks to the constantly high interest rate, as if by itself.

Malfoy took a deep breath - he could already smell the moist air that surrounded the area around the lake. The boathouse, whose wood was now rotten, as this building no longer had any use, was already in sight. He quickened his pace as he saw his destination. He would take his place on the bench behind the house, facing the lake, and lose his thoughts in the dark sea of stagnant water, which the full moon visually turned into silvery velvet.

He left the dusty footpath and stepped onto the creaking, dark wood of the pier on which the old cabin had been built. Suddenly he paused. Clouds of smoke that circled around the corner and climbed up into the night sky to finally completely lose themselves, involuntarily announced the presence of another person. The blond wizard rolled his eyes. He had absolutely no nerve for further contentless banter.

But the curiosity about who stole away to stealthily surrender to his desire for Muggle cigarettes, which were still frowned upon by purebloods, prevailed. With a sardonic grin on his lips, he finally stepped around the corner and immediately breathed a "good evening," in which undoubtedly amusement resonated. When he realized who was wrapped in the blue haze of sin, he raised an eyebrow in surprise. Here was none of the older gentlemen, who were known to cherish a weakness for all kinds of luxury enjoyments, as he initially suspected.

Grace's cream dress, made of fine fabrics and embroidered with threads of white gold, sparkled in the delicate glow of the moon with the stars. Slowly she turned around as Malfoy's words reached her ears. "Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," she replied calmly as she took another drag from her cigarette. She turned her eyes to the lake and blew out the smoke she had just inhaled deeply. She seemed relaxed, yes, almost indifferent.

Lucius straightened his shoulders and assessed the red-haired young woman. It was reserved for men of distinguished society to consume stimulants. For ladies it was not - of a few glasses of champagne, apart. Why didn't this brat feel caught, as her good breeding and decency demanded? The blond man took a sip of his whiskey, which he had brought in a glass before he reminded the young woman: "This behavior is not befitting, for a lady of your class."

With a smile, she turned her head to him. It was not that stupid grin that adorned her face the whole evening, no. It was a confident, knowing smile. "Is that so?" She replied in a played surprised tone. Malfoy was amazed at this coquettish answer. He cleared his throat and took a step towards her. "Well Grace, I assumed you had inherited your father's intelligence," he countered. An amused snort escaped her lips. "Do you question my intelligence, sir?"

Malfoy laughed. "Your behavior is absolutely foolish. That doesn't let me draw any other conclusions." The redhead took one last pull from her cigarette before flipping it carelessly into the lake. "Foolish ... You know, people who are a bit ... let's say ... more open-minded, would call this behavior the result of an independent, free mind." The older wizard was genuinely amused by these words. Grinning, he stared at the whiskey glass he waved in his hand. "Stop lying to both of us Grace. Your big words about freedom, independence and rebellion are vain, given the stealth they wrap their deeds in."

With a mischievous grin, Grace turned to the blond man and walked over to him. The heels of her golden heels clacked dully on the old floorboards. She took the glass from the older man's hand while she fixed his storm-gray eyes and brought it to her lips to take a long swig of the amber liquid. Without batting an eyelid, she put the glass back into her hand, which Malfoy still held open, brushing his wrist as if by chance. She stepped closer, stood on tiptoe. Her warm breath brushed his ear, sending goose bumps all over his body. "Aren't it all the little secrets in our lives that give it the necessary spice?"

Lucius stared at the spot where Grace's warm fingers dance a few seconds ago. He knew that touch was no coincidence. Miss Reynolds was not a woman who left things to chance. She was calculating. As he studied the dark lipstick print on his glass, he thought about her words. "No, Grace. Secrets are what our nightmares are made of. They are what weighs like an anvil on our chest and takes our breath away. They are the black shadow that then haunts us", Malfoy finally replied.

The young woman had gone back to the wooden balustrade, leaning on her elbow with her back to the lake. "Longings," she noted as she bowed her head, "what you've just described are longings. Nothing can tear a person inside as much as the piercing thought of all the possibilities one had not perceived. All the opportunities that were missed. All the dreams you never met. "She stopped in her monologue to look Lucius in the eye. Completely shamelessly, she let her eyes wander over his large, wiry body - interested, scrutinizing, judgmental. "And all the wishes that continue to ... unsatisfied ... slumber in us."

Even her angelic face could not hide the obscenity of her behavior. Lucius had already made enough acquaintance with such frivolous ladies to not be too shocked by such lasciviousness . What upset him was who showed this attitude Miss Reynolds, a well-bred young lady, from a respected family. Lucius took a deep breath. He felt that it was best if he ignored this inappropriate behavior.

"Well, I have experienced enough in my life to say that it was all the acts that took me around my nights that I actually committed. They clung to me like pitch and seemed to follow me at every turn. Desires and hopes were the power that made me believe in a better life, "he philosophized as he watched the mosquitoes dart across the surface of the lake.  
"A better life?", The red-haired woman asked rhetorically and pushed away from the parapet. Almost thoughtful, she paced up and down the rotten jetty. Her step was sublime, her posture perfect. "You hate all this as much as I hate. Did you really think for one minute of a better life, within this staged drama? "She stopped abruptly and looked into the older wizard's eyes. "This is not about you or me," she said, pointing her hands at Malfoy first, then at herself, "all that matters is the perfection in which we play our role that has been imposed on us , play. Nothing else!"

With a frustrated snort, she finally leaned against the door of the old cabin and closed her eyes. "You and I are just so high up in society because we master the art of performance," she said with bitterness in her voice. Lucius nodded silently. Grace brought back memories of his youth as he realized desperately that there was no escape from the clutches of life predetermined for him. But unlike the redhead, he never found the courage to talk openly about his doubts and fears.

Leaning her head against the graying wood, she slowly opened her eyes again. "I like to play," she breathed while letting her right hand lasciviously wander over the bare skin of her left arm. Malfoy's jaw muscles cramped. He knew he had to put an end to this spectacle. And he would, by putting the queen in check by only one move. After putting down the empty whiskey glass on the wooden railing, he was at her with a few steps and came close - too close. Barking dogs do not bite, it was said. And that's what it's about. "I like playing too," he whispered in a velvety, almost dangerous-sounding voice.

It took a while for the young woman to break away from her rigidity. But instead of stepping to the side and keeping the necessary distance, as Lucius had expected, she reached behind her, for the doorknob made of copper and opened, with a soft creak, the door of the boathouse. "May the games begin," she whispered before biting her lip. The older wizard swallowed. This request was clear.

It wasn't her clumsy, outrageous attempts. It was rather her daringness that proved her to him. That's what made Lucius pushing the young woman gently into the darkness of the cabin, after checking the environment with a few prudent looks, to make sure they had no uninvited audience. He followed her immediately and closed the door behind him, which he covered with protective spells to protect them from uninvited intruders.

*°*°*°*°*°*°

The air in the old hut was musty. The full moon, shining through the dirty window, gave only a sparse light. It took a while for Lucius' gray eyes to get used to the bad lighting conditions. Grace stood in silence, her back to him, her arms wrapped around her body.

He approached her from behind-slowly, almost hesitantly. With a flowing motion, he stroked her hair, which poured down her narrow back like a waterfall of blood, over her left shoulder. His other hand found its way to the small gold zipper at the top of her dress. Slowly he pulled the clasp in the direction of her shapely butt. Each revealed inch of her porcelain skin, he stroked gently with his fingertips of his free hand.

In response to his contact, goosebumps spread over her strained back muscles. Lucius stepped closer to her, tickling the sensitive skin of her neck with his warm breath. "If you say 'stop', little Grace, I'll finish the game immediately," he breathed in her ear. He did not fail to notice that the young woman, in spite of her bold words, seemed uncertain, almost anxious. "I will not say stop," she replied with a shy smile.

With both hands he brushed the heavy cloth from her shoulders, which fell silently on the dusty wooden floor and formed a pool of cream-colored silk around her golden heels. Her white panties made of lace, fused in the dim light of the hut with her pale skin. The older wizard grazed her upper arm with the hand he handed her. Her eyes lowered, she turned slowly and put her little hand in his. With a big, elegant step, she got out of her dress.

She stood there in silence. Letting him roam his gaze over every inch of her beautiful young body. He watched her as she finally went on her knees, kneeling in front of him on the wooden floor covered with a carpet of dark dust. His left hand found its way into their dark red waves. His grip was determined, but not painful. His other hand opened the belt of dragon leather attached to the waistband of his black suit trousers. 

The young woman might not be very experienced, but certainly not stupid - she knew what to expect. Her eyes were closed as her full lips slowly parted.Lucius took a deep breath before slowly pushing his manhood into her. A moan escaped his throat and his head involuntarily fell back. The warmth of her mouth elated him and sent him nearly ofer the edge - the last time was just too long ago. He sighed, enjoying that awesome feeling for a while before pulling himself back and helping Grace to her feet.

He directed the young woman to the large table in the middle of the room and liftet her up and layed her on top the tabletop. His long, platinum blond hair tickled the skin of her breasts as he leaned forward to cover her neck with pecking kisses. A comforting snort, which she let out, was his confirmation. Encouraged, he kissed his way down, over her clavicles, down to the delicate pink buds, which stood stiffly in the cool air in the middle of her pale breasts.His hands went up her thighs, over her hips, to her breasts, caressing them with his long fingers. As she lay there half nacked on the filthy table, with the red hair gathered around her head like a halo, she looked like a fallen angel - the fiendish temptation, the living sin.

The older wizard slid his hands over the comforting warm skin of her little tummy, down to her panties. Playfully, he dipped his fingers under the elastic decorated with bows, then danced up again to tease her nipples. A slight smile of triumph formed on his lips as he noticed the wet spot on her panties.  
Motivated, determined, he now pushed aside the noble material to reveal her femininity. His fingers found their way to the delicate pearl that was well protected inbetween her folds. Her initially soft, shy sounds quickly became a loud song of passion.

Malfoy, leaning on his forearms, leaned over Grace and looked deep into the green eyes, which had darkened with pleasure. He could see it, he could feel it, he could smell it - but he wanted the absolute certainty. Barely noticeable, she nodded and formed with her lips "Do it!". A single push, and they were united. With both hands he gripped her face, on which lay a look of pain. With his thumb he wiped away a single tear that had made its way through Grace's closed eyelid. He rested his forehead on hers and gave her time to get used to the new feeling. When Lucius felt that she had relaxed noticeably, he began to move - slowly, carefully, tenderly.

A fine welding film enveloped the two and made their pale skin shine in the soft light. Their breathing was heavy. Lucius straightened up, his thrusts getting harder, more demanding. Grace was pushed a little further with each thrust over the tabletop - her delicate back scrubbed over the rough wood, that was leaving light red welts on her fair skin. With a final push, the blond wizard brought the two of them to their release. With a low growl he emptied himself into her, before collapsing over her.

Malfoy adjusted the heavy fabric of his dress coat before running his long fingers through his hair to rearrange it. He squinted over at the young woman, who had already put on her dress again and was about to cleanse it with various spells. "Why?", That word cut through the thick wall of silence that had built between them. Grace turned slowly, nervously playing with the gold bracelet that hung loosely around her left wrist.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before explaining, "Because it will be the only thing in my life that I could ever decide on my own free will. Also, if it was morally absolutely wrong, it felt way better than any other decision in my life. And the memory of this evening, this lake, this hut ... of you ... can never be taken from me. "A smile fell on her lips as she looked Lucius in the eyes.

The older man nodded. Her explanation was conclusive and if he was honest with himself, exactly the answer he would have given. After he was sure that his clothes were perfect again, he went to her. There was basically nothing left to say to her - her fate was already sealed. But thanks to their meeting, he now knew that there was no cause for concern. The young woman was strong, intelligent and courageous. Also, if all the qualities he cherished in her would fade under the tyrant she would take as her husband, they would slumber inside her and ensure her survival in this messed-up world.

He took her head in both hands and kissed her on the forehead in goodbye, then, with a wave of his hand, released the door from its protective spells and stepped out into the cool night. The wood creaked under his feet as he made his way back to the dusty path that led up to the mansion. He paused when he heard the loud sobs that came through the wood of the hut and pierced directly into his heart. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Life was not fair - this realization sooner or later hit everyone.


End file.
